


Song of the Wyvern

by LocketShoru



Category: Saint Seiya, 聖闘士星矢: 冥王神話 | Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas
Genre: 15th Century Holy War, Altar Hakurei's POV, Elements of Jealousy, Enemies to Lovers, First Meetings, M/M, Mild Gore, Oneshot, Saint Seiya Rarepair Week 2020, Sexual Tension, Universe Alteration: Otherkin, aka rhada is the dragon version of a catboy, no beta we die like gold saints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocketShoru/pseuds/LocketShoru
Summary: [Day 1: Jealousy] Rhadamanthys is the wyvern, and that means he has a hoard, always seeking to grow it. Hakurei doesn't know that, but what he does know is that Rhadamanthys is perceptive, and a Spectre, and the epitome of every single wildest, dangerous fantasy he has come true.
Relationships: Wyvern Rhadamanthys/Altar Hakurei
Comments: 13
Kudos: 8
Collections: Saint Seiya Rarepair Week 2020





	Song of the Wyvern

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, 15th century!Rhada and the Cancer Lemurian twins is a goddamn otp and the lot of you are going to deal with it. Special shoutout to my own mate KageSagittarius, who's decided they're going to illustrate my fics for their own entries! [Their artwork can be found on their twitter here](https://twitter.com/kagesagittarius/status/1312946812022554624?s=20)!  
> Today's prompt was jealousy, which I think makes for a pretty good undercurrent.  
> Choose not to warn because there is an onscreen death, but also, literally nobody cares about that guy so.

He was a dragon. If nothing else, if only a single word could be used to describe him, he was a dragon. And let that serve as a warning, let it serve as the challenge it was: here there be a monster, here there be the downfall of any hero who raises their sword of watered steel and their altar of desperate hope.

It would never be warning enough. So here is where the story begins.

Hakurei dropped into a chair beside the tavern's fire, shivering, groaning in his annoyance and in his chill. This was the worst part of being sent so far north – he was only twenty, and he was pretty sure his cosmos wasn't up to keeping him warm, even in the warmest clothes he'd packed. He shivered, feeling the chill sweep down his back. He reached his hands to the fire, rubbing them in hopes of perhaps getting a bit of feeling back into them. The wool gloves he'd brought weren't going to be enough.

He heard a soft, wry chuckle, and very suddenly, something warm and soft and heavy dropped onto his shoulders, and a second later, the man who must have held the fur cloak dropped into the opposite chair, stretching out his legs.

The first thing he noticed was the man's hair: blond, wavy, tied at his sideburns and the back of his neck with thick cylinders of what seemed to be solid, violet metal. He'd never seen steel that colour before, but maybe it was the finish, to keep it from rusting. The second thing he noticed were the man's eyes: golden and lambent, like firelight, like the very center of the hearth when the fire was bright and warm. But they were ever so subtly _wrong_ , and it took a moment, before he realized the man's eyes were slitted, like a snake's.

What he'd taken originally for an odd style of crown upon his brow was actually a pair of horns – bone-white and almost like fins, lining down his skull. The man set his elbow on the arm of the chair, resting his chin upon his palm, and smiled. His fangs were far, far too sharp to be human. It took everything he had not to press himself back into the chair, better yet to get up and run. But he wasn't sure the man was snarling, no, maybe it was all right, and the fur cloak was warmer than he'd been in days.

"Hi," he said, slowly, carefully, trying to focus on that smile instead of his horns and those strange, strange lambent golden eyes. "Um, do you want the cloak back at some point?"

The man shrugged. "You smell of seasalt and spice, you're not from here, and the cold will kill you if you're not careful. Call it generosity and call it a night; if anything, it's amusing."

He blinked. There were a lot of responses he could have given him. "Well, uh, thank you," was what he managed, with a dip of his head and drawing his cloak closer to him. "I'm Hakurei. And you are…?"

"Hakurei," said the man almost thoughtfully, rolling every syllable over his tongue – sweet Athena, was his tongue split down the middle? – almost like a purr. "A pretty Lemurian name for a pretty Lemurian boy, I see. Call me Rhadamanthys, if you call me anything at all. This isn't the only mountain range I call home, but if you've been to yours recently, then you know me."

The man – Rhadamanthys – rose from his seat and strode past him, stepping over to where the bar was, presumably to order food. Under his cloak, Hakurei could see a long, thick tail, the same violet colour as the ties in his hair. And unless he was very much wrong, he was walking on his toes.

Hakurei hoped he was walking on his toes. When he could feel his elbows properly again, he caught the attention of the nearest barmaid, paid his fare, and went up to his room for the night.

He didn't see Rhadamanthys again for months. True to form, he went home to Jamir once or twice, and strained his eyes for the man he'd met. None of his friends or family knew what he was talking about. Even in Sanctuary, nobody seemed to know. Until one day, he turned to Aquarius Krest, and asked if he'd ever heard of a golden-haired man with horns and a violet tail.

"I… haven't," he answered, slowly, unsure, but his dark eyes narrowed, as if he suspected something. "He didn't happen to have a cosmos, did he?"

Hakurei nodded - he would've needed to be blind to miss that. "He did. Easily as powerful as Pope Itia's. He said his name was Rhadamanthys, but it sounded like a moniker-"

"That was his name." Krest's reply was short and blunt. He whipped around on his heel to face him. The air seemed to freeze around them both, and Hakurei reflexively took a step backwards. Krest hadn't survived this long by playing dumb. He was short and powerful and downright vicious when he wanted to be. He almost always wanted to be downright vicious. "So let me get this straight. You met Wyvern Rhadamanthys in a tavern in Norway, and you didn't kill him while you had the chance?"

The name was familiar, and not, and he couldn't quite place it. "I don't… I can't say I know who he was, hence why I'm asking, because he was nice but people don't typically have tails or horns." If Krest was this angry about it...

"The man is a Judge of Hell, and the reason I'm a Saint, and in the last Holy War I killed him myself," Krest said, and his voice was soft and sugary-sweet and terrifying. Hakurei took another step back. He might have the cosmos to be in the running for the Cancer Cloth, but he wasn't disciplined enough, and he disliked the responsibility. Even with it, if Sage let him borrow it, he wouldn't be able to stand up to Krest. The best he'd be able to do would be to teleport himself away, and even then, wouldn't that put him in danger? The Meikai was where the Spectres were. It wasn't as safe as everyone thought it was in Yomotsu Hirasaka.

"I didn't know," he answered, softly. "What reason would he even have to be nice? My Cloth was hidden. He didn't know what I was."

"Don't bet on that," Krest spat. "And don't let him keep you." He turned on his heel and stalked off, ensuring he had the last word, steps focused in the direction of Itia's temple. Hakurei stood there, blinking, and waited for the understanding of Krest's words.

When he next saw Rhadamanthys, it was accidental. Hakurei was running, reaching for lightspeed, knowing he wouldn't make it in time, focusing the energy that wasn't being spent on running to his fingertips to call the fire. He couldn't quench the flames, couldn't throw water on them or freeze them. But he could call them to him, and take them away from the wooden village that burned a few miles off.

The cosmos surrounding the village was all dark and cruel and merry. On the wind he could hear their laughter and their voices, too far to be discernible sentences but close enough he could hear them. His every step caught in the mud. He wasn't graceful, he was covered in dirt from the knees down, and he couldn't run fast enough.

His boot slipped under a branch, caught, and he went flying. He skidded into the mud, swearing inwardly. The pain registered a moment before the chill, soaking into his face and pulling him upright onto his knees. His partner slowed, reaching over to pull him up by under his arm. He looked up at his companion - the Capricorn Gold Saint, whose name he didn't actually know but seemed to be on good terms with his brother - and allowed him to help him to his feet. He wiped away the mud with his free hand, offering a sheepish smile.

"We can't linger, the Spectres are out," the Capricorn said, voice gruff and quiet. "Be on your guard, Hakurei." He nodded a split second before he felt a shadow pass over him: quick, dark, and undeniably cruel. He froze. That wasn't just a Spectre's cosmos. No, he knew this one.

"Well, well," came the purr behind him, and the Capricorn flared his cosmos in preparation for a technique. The good thing was that they were both swords. They knew how to dual-wield their abilities. "Pretty little Lemurian found a friend. Should I be concerned, dear Hakurei?"

He turned around, slow and tense, the scowl already finding his face at the way Rhadamanthys purred out his name. It was almost guttural, and yet smooth as fine whiskey, and he didn't like the contradiction. The Judge himself stood easily on a thick tree branch, so far escaping the flames. His Surplice was terrifying and beautiful, matching the hair bands he recognized from before; and the spiked armour ran down to the tip of his tail, reinforcing it, aiding him to keep his balance on such a thin surface. His golden hair was actually longer than it had been before, still curly and golden and thick.

"Spectre," snarled his companion. Hakurei stepped away from him, allowing him the space he needed for the incoming _Excalibur_ he was about to cast. Rhadamanthys raised a hand to his mouth and laughed, and it wasn't a harsh sound so much as it was simply not a sound a human could ever have possibly made. A chill ran down Hakurei's spine, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to run like hell or kneel in front of this man and swear his undying loyalty.

The very thought terrified him. Rhadamanthys stopped laughing, and his smile was no less full of teeth. He tsked, and settled his eyes on Hakurei. "Well? Should I be concerned, dear one?"

He found he couldn't give an answer. The only answer that might have escaped his throat was an honest one - and 'yes' seemed quite likely - but any concern of this man's would not go over well. He knew that. But just as well, he couldn't look him in the eye and tell him no, he didn't need to be concerned at all. Nor could he tear his gaze away. Not from him.

"You only need to be concerned, Spectre, about your incoming death," the Capricorn said. Hakurei stepped back, away from the two, just as his companion lunged.

Rhadamanthys was not there when the tree exploded. They both whipped around, trying to find where his cosmos had gone, trying to throw something at him before he killed them both. Hakurei spun, wildly searching, he wasn't where he'd been or behind him or to either side-

"Hakurei _move!_ " his companion screeched, and he jumped almost completely vertical as the Capricorn landed, swiping at a shadow that wasn't there. Several trees fell, adding to the fire. He could still feel the cruel starlight of Rhadamanthys, but he couldn't pinpoint where. 

" _Greatest Caution,_ " said a soft purr of a voice to his left, and it was followed by a hissing of burning cosmos and a choking noise of blood gushing backwards out of someone's throat. He spun on his heel to see Rhadamanthys, his arm up to the elbow through the Capricorn's chest, his cosmos a deeper, brighter violet than even his armour. There was a smear of blood just across his jawline, staining the blond, almost brassy scruff.

He pulled his arm away, and Hakurei felt the cosmos of his companion extinguish. Rhadamanthys looked up, his breastplate drenched in blood, and smiled at him, just a flash of pointed ivory teeth against dark golden skin. "Now it's just you and me," he purred, and his voice was no less dangerous than it was before. "No tidal roads to block our passage. I've been wondering what you'd say if you were free to say it."

When the world casts doubt on your position, he'd learned to go off-script and swear at it until it stopped. "What the fuck do you want?" he demanded. "Was there not an easier way to do that? Hells, you could have just thrown him towards the village and he would've left me to deal with you alone. You didn't have to kill him!"

Rhadamanthys shrugged. "One less Gold Saint to fight. Brings her down to ten, and from ten, we have half a chance in Mag Mell."

Hakurei paused. "Mag Mell?" he asked. If nothing else, he could blame it on the shock later. It wasn't like he was going to be able to fight him.

Rhadamanthys' tail flicked, in some change of an emotion he didn't know how to read. "The sea to our west," he answered. "In the Meikai. If you really wanted a private place to talk, I could take you to the shore."

"Why the fuck would I want that?" he snapped, folding his arms to show how unimpressed he was. "Your fur coat's back at my place, and that's a good day's journey off. There's no reason for any of this drama you're pulling."

Rhadamanthys snorted, and stepped closer, over the Capricorn's body. Some part of it was just sad that he died nameless. "There is all the reason in the world, dear Hakurei. You caught my interest, I'll admit. It's not often Silver Saints are smart enough to survive a tangle with us twice. I've had my eye on you for quite a while."

  
  


Those golden eyes of his were slit like a snake's, once he was close enough for them to be seen in any detail. Hakurei wanted to step away from. He found that his legs wouldn't listen to him. He was all but frozen to the spot. There was no getting away from him. Rhadamanthys stopped quite deep into his personal space, less than a foot away, and he still couldn't move. He could feel the man's breath tickling his chin, and he tensed, hissing between clenched teeth, "What do you _want_?"

"You're a fighty one. I do have to admire that," Rhadamanthys replied, and it wasn't an answer at all. "You would make a lovely Spectre, and yet I get the feeling you would fit right in. What do you say? I cannot imagine it would be easy, so outshone by your brother. They demand so much of you, and do not bother to give you the respect you are rightly owed. I could give you better, if you asked it of me."

He'd never heard these words before, and he knew they'd been said: not longer after the start of the Holy War, a year prior, three of his colleagues had died and returned, bled into their surplices and lunging for Lady Athena Sendai. Pisces Theophania and Saintia Northern Crown Madeleine had stopped them. "Get out of my face," he snarled, fighting the urge to stay rooted to the spot, failing to rescue himself. "I don't care what you could offer me. I won't fight for Hades."

The sigh that escaped the Spectre started in his throat and somehow extended all the way to the tip of his armoured tail. It was a neat trick. Rhadamanthys didn't move away, and Hakurei still couldn't force himself to move, and for just a moment, he could feel the Spectre's hands on his tassets, like a parody of an embrace.

"I never asked that of you, you know," he said. Hakurei never saw him move, and yet he was suddenly five feet away, tail swept around his knees, arms folded but wings flared just enough to remind him how big of a man he was. He let out a breath, and found that his legs would obey him again. Did the man have some sort of stasis technique? He hoped he didn't, hoped it was just his nerves. Sweet Athena, he wanted it to be just his nerves. Rhadamanthys eyed him. "He didn't deserve you. None of them do. We would give you better if you let us." He paused, his voice turning soft, shifting back into its purr, and. " _I_ would give you better if you let me."

He flicked a wing and turned on his heel to walk away, heading back towards the burning village that his subordinates probably torched. The irritation in his cosmos indicated his unhappiness, and yet, he'd still been purring. Maybe Theophania's cats were wrong - maybe the purring didn't mean joy at all.

"Rhadamanthys, wait," he yelped, and took a step forward, one he'd never meant to make and yet still had. His muscles had tensed and he hadn't a clue of why he hadn't let him go. It would be easier. But he wasn't going to get to sleep at all if he didn't ask. 

The Spectre paused, and did not turn. His golden hair cascaded almost to the small of his back, tied in place with a wide metal ribbon not unlike his surplice. He could feel the surplice almost as much as he could feel his own cloth. Like it was just as alive. "What do you mean, give me better? What are you even offering here? To what ends?" Hakurei demanded.

Rhadamanthys tilted his head, watching him out of the corner of his eye. "If you really want to know, then you'll follow me to ground. You can't learn to outshine what casts its shadows on you if you don't learn to love those shadows first. That twin of yours wouldn't forgive you for taking his glory away from him. There's always other ways to stand out on your own merit, and not on his."

Hakurei blinked. How a Spectre of all people - characterized usually by the fact they all somehow managed to have a foot in their mouths and their heads in their asses, the true contortionists of the world - had noticed how painfully jealous of his brother he was, considering how difficult and painstakingly he tried to hide it, he didn't know. It was far too tempting an offer.

"Even if I wanted to listen, I can't do that without betraying my goddess," he pointed out, shifting his stance to rest his weight on one hip. "Unless you somehow have a solution for that too, which I doubt, because nobody has _that_ perfect of an answer."

He didn't really expect Rhadamanthys to turn back around, but he did, and offered his arm. Hakurei took a step forward, debating taking it. He wasn't going to until he had a guarantee. He couldn't have explained why he wanted to take his arm in the first place. Rhadamanthys was still covered in the blood of his companion, and he couldn't forget that, and yet he couldn't help his gaze from not looking at it.

"Oh, I think they'll have other issues on their wings to worry about," he answered, and his tone was light, if still purring, and there was a strange glitter in his eyes. Hakurei glowered at him, but stepped forward all the same, and placed his hand in the crook of his elbow. 

Rhadamanthys smiled, flashing those pointed teeth one more time. His tail hit him in the back of the calves and suddenly his feet were in the air, Rhadamanthys' free hand very suddenly holding him under his knees. Hakurei looked at him, blinking, wondering what he was planning in equal measure to whether he weighed more than a rose in his arms. Rhadamanthys' smile widened briefly. He spread his wings and kicked off from the ground, and just as suddenly, they were gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Sidenote: it's recently been discovered that cats don't purr because they're happy. They purr as a means of saying "don't leave me".


End file.
